Little White Lies
by MoonFire1
Summary: Amazing, the lies that we tell ourselves.


Title: Little White Lies  
Timeline: Post "I-Do".  
Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me. Ryan Murphy and most of the writers would've been fired by now.  
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine (implied); Kurt second-person POV  
Genre: Angst  
Summary: Amazing, the lies we tell ourselves.

* * *

It's never been casual between you two.

It will never be casual, no matter how many times you breathe 'just friends' in between scorching kisses and hands that always knew where to go, how hard to caress, where to touch to make you burn.

It's never been casual but it will have to be casual. That is the lie that accompanies a host of others, the only thing holding your shattered heart together.

"I can never trust you again." Lie number one. No one sees you like this without trust. Even Adam (sweet, trusting, will-never-be-_you_-Adam) has never seen your face like this with your heart in your eyes.

"I can't believe you would do this to me." Lie number two. You had echoed the same promises when you accepted the gum-wrapper ring and at that time, you had sincerely meant them. You had whispered the same promises against crying eyes the night before you left Ohio.

You couldn't have known at that time how quickly those promises would be broken on your end. It takes two people to carry relationships and leaving him to carry it alone was profoundly unfair.

Does it excuse cheating? No.

Does it mean you don't understand why it happened? You won't let yourself think of the answer to your question even as you breathe _yes_ into his ear.

"We're friends only. Just friends." Lie number three and the most damning of them all.

You had never been just friends before. You can never be just friends again.

Lies are all that hold your heart together and for this night only, you force yourself to believe them.

It will be unbearably hard to walk out the door unaffected in the morning but somehow you will do it.

* * *

"_KURT ELIZABETH HUMMEL! You call me back IMMEDIATELY!_"

You jerk the phone away from your ear, your father's message ringing through your head. Very few things had ever caused Burt to scream at you – not even the time when you accidentally-on-purpose threw out six of his favorite oil -stained shirts –and you aren't able to think of what you might have done this time.

"Dad?" Your greeting is breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. "What's wrong? Is it—"

"What happened to Blaine?" He interrupts you, voice tight and angry. Burt is never – well, _almost_ never angry with you.

You mostly feel confused but at the back of your mind, anxiety begins to grow. "What? What are you talking about?"

"What happened to Blaine?" he asks again with deliberate slowness. "The week before Schuester's wedding, he came by and he looked so happy. He told me he knew he would see you again and-"

"We weren't going to get back together-"

"—and finish talking since it never happened like it should have at Christmas. What happened to him?"

You can only breathe, your heart still pounding. "I don't understand." It sounds weak even to your own ears. You can picture the expression on your father's face. You shut your eyes against a hot upwelling. You would not cry. You are _through_ crying.

"I remember telling you that you needed to respect Brittany, even though I also knew you were lying through your teeth about dating her," your father continues, oblivious to your struggle. "I never thought I would have to do the same thing for Blaine but apparently I should have."

"Dad—"

"He told me what he did. And he told me why he did it. Kurt. . ." Burt sighs, disappointment audible even over the phone. "When you love someone, when you're in a relationship –- it can't be a matter of convenience. Having someone scheduled in. I'm not taking his side here –- I'm always on your side. But he had no one else here he could talk to so he came to me."

You are losing the fight against the tears building up. "I'm—I'm glad he came to you."

"He won't talk to me now," Burt continues. Relentless. People attribute your stubborn will to your mother, but you have always known the truth. "I asked how things were going and it looked like someone had gutted him."

_Just friends just friends just friends just friends..._ The mantra echoing through your mind seems so very weak.

"I'm sorry," you finally say. No matter what had happened before, you will never want to hurt Blaine (again).

_Didn't stop you from walking out that door_ your mind reminds you snidely.

"Tell Blaine that," Burt says softly. Doubtfully. He has never truly doubted you before, and you hate that you've given him reason to. "Remember that I love you, kiddo. Nothing will change that."

"I love you too, Dad." The conversation ends. You wonder if Burt noticed you hadn't promised to talk to Blaine. Not that it matters –the things he told you are running through your mind and you can't shut them off.

* * *

The worst lie you could have told Blaine, either that weekend back in Lima or any day since then was "I don't feel that way about you anymore."

Your fantasy duet (_Until my dying day_) quickly put that delusion to rest. You've grown so used to living under the lies that admitting the truth to yourself seems foreign.

"Everything all right, Kurt?" You're Skyping tonight but you've been very distracted. It's not surprising that Blaine notices your distraction.

He always noticed you before.

He notices you now.

His eyes are still so warm, so welcoming. Not as desperate as before. Whatever the cause, this separation hasn't entirely been harmful for both of you.

You know his face so well. You know the six freckles on his neck. You know how he jumps around when excited and how he makes sure he has handkerchiefs and chocolate for any emergency and any person in need.

You know that he regrets what he did.

He doesn't know about your own.

You couldn't bear to throw out the gum wrapper ring even when you put his picture face-down in the bottom of your dresser. You can't keep a smile off your face when you receive a text or return a call. You're listening to the playlist he put on your iPod.

All of this tells you many things but at this moment, you don't know what to do.

"Kurt?"

"I miss you," you tell him truthfully. You have to respect Blaine. You can't keep pretending he doesn't matter to you, even if you won't put to words what you two currently are – or what you could be.

"I'm here." He smiles so lovingly at you. You talk of other things, feeling the cold knot around your heart ease. You put his picture back up on your nightstand. It always belonged there.

When you get ready to sleep that night, you push Bruce off the bed. You whisper to yourself before falling asleep, "But I wish you were _here_."

It is the first truth you've allowed yourself to admit for far too many months.

It won't be the last.

/end/


End file.
